Wheres that noise coming from?

Beyond the concrete facade lies the unique home to a handful of UMass students where sounds echo off the walls and young adults bury their heads in music books until the sun fades. Bezanson Hall is situated in the Fine Arts Complex, also known as the concrete maze connecting the music and art departments together from Bezanson through an overhead tunnel above Haigas Mall to Stockbridge Hall. The 200-seat Bezanson Recital Hall sits behind chrome doors to one side of the small yet comfortable lobby. Directly across the way students buzz in and out of the unknown through swinging double doors.

Once my tour guide had arrived I was taken beyond the doors to the mysterious place where so many students had been rushing to and music had been spilling from. Manish explained that Bezanson Hall was just the beginning and led us through the doors. We had officially arrived in the music department. There were offices on both sides of the hall with red tags that read foreign names to me. Manish read them aloud explaining their role in the music world at UMass and beyond. After a few head nods and little response he said, “These guys are pretty important.”

At the end of the narrow hall we turned around and headed back for the hollow concrete stairwell. While descending the stairs the sounds I had been hearing grew louder and seemed to be battling. The intertwined music from pianos, trumpets, and other unidentified instruments was seeping out of the practice rooms and bouncing off the narrow hallway walls. This floor was packed with practice rooms in which nearly every one contained a piano, and large metal lockers stood in any available space in the hall. Manish explained, “Stuff down here is really, really, really expensive.”

Within a matter of five minutes we had passed the recital hall, faculty offices, classrooms, practice rooms, and a common area for socializing where students were taking a break for lunch. I soon realized that this was the home away from home for roughly 300 undergraduate and graduate music students who spent most of their waking hours hard at work here.

After once again returning to the bleak stairwell it was off to the final destination, the grand finale. We strode through long and short dim hallways passing large lecture classrooms in what seemed like a basement, or dungeon. Finally we came upon two large metal doors with one word written across them. Manish stopped, looked at me, and said, “Welcome to backstage!”

As he opened the door to the stage my heart raced and the distant sounds of an orchestra grew louder. I peered inside the door looking at the tall draping curtains and random equipment sitting in the dark abandoned area. After taking one step in I realized I was not on any stage, but we had arrived at the Fine Arts Concert Hall and I was looking out into the empty audience. Without wanting to disrupt the orchestra that was practicing nearby I took one last look, closed the door behind me and followed my guide to the exit of the Fine Arts Center. Within a half hour I had seen a whole new world I never knew existed at UMass.

The Underground

She asked if I had ever been to the radio station before. I thought, UMass has a radio station? For all the times I have walked through the campus center to snag a bite at the Blue Wall, stock up on supplies from the Campus Store, or usher guest speakers down the escalators to the large conference rooms on the bottom floor, I had never found myself trekking in the direction Sarah was leading me now. I followed obediently as she led me down the elevators, past the familiar conference rooms and rows of unsanitary red-cushioned bench-couches, and towards a doorway tucked away in a far corner.
Still following Sarah’s lead, upon passing through the doorway I found myself in a small labyrinth of passages. To the right, an expansive, open room littered by a maze of desks drowning in heaps of papers and folders: the offices of the Collegian. To the left, an odd-looking niche with some unrecognizable electronic equipment and a single turntable. But we began walking straight, stopping in the doorway of another room, at which point Sarah pointed out the mailbox shelves nailed to the wall, one mailbox labeled for each of the station’s radio shows. A few steps further and we peaked around the corner into the offices of the radio station, allowing me a brief moment to glance around as two older individuals, who had uncomfortably paused in their conversation, watched.
Directing me back the way we had come, Sarah explained to me that she had worked here, at the radio station, up until her junior year, when she took a semester off from school to take advantage of an internship opportunity. She described for me what seemed to be the radio station equivalent of an initiation ritual; as a newcomer, I was informed, one has to come to the station in the “wee hours of the morning” in order to test-run their first show. The odd hours, Sarah noted, were so that no one would hear the mistakes.
Ducking back into the room I had glimpsed on my left before, we passed the lone turntable and I realized that the small room was no niche but that it led to a short, busy hallway with four doorways branching off it. One, Sarah explained, was the production room where student groups and organizations could record commercials, or those working at the radio station could create their own internal advertising. I was then directed to turn around and found myself staring into a room lined floor to ceiling with shelves upon shelves crammed with CDs.
Sarah poked her head around one of the shelves and then motioned for me to follow. Hidden by the shelf was the real deal—an entire broadcasting setup, complete with seven various forms of CD players, a soundboard, and old-school phones which, Sarah noted enthusiastically, would “light up and flash like crazy” whenever the station got call-ins.
Leading me out, Sarah joked, “I miss my own show so much, and since I have a friend who has a show now, and I keep meaning to drop in.” I could see why.

Morrill Support

When Jenna told me to meet her for a tour of Morrill Science Center, I had two questions: which one, and why Morrill? The only class I'd had in the archipelago of science centers was a large biochemistry lecture in an unremarkable auditorium. What's tour-worthy about that? But when Jenna met me outside of Morrill III ("the one closest to the FAC and the greenhouses," she'd explained beforehand), she flung open the door with an enthusiastic grin. "I love it here," she said.

As we made our way through the mazelike hallways of the geoscience department, Jenna explained that last semester she'd had to walk through Morrill in a snowstorm, and was so enchanted by the building that she had to take a class in it this semester, despite her reluctance to place herself anywhere that would entail any sort of math. "This building just comforts me," she said, brushing her fingers along the wall, and I could see why. The hallways were papered with classic science posters covered with scientific truths so absolute that they may have been up for decades without losing their value or relevance. Here were periodic tables, solid in their knowledge, and there were maps showing soil densities and topographical areas in delicate linework and pastel colors. We peeked into classrooms filled with complicated equipment -- computers attached to tubes, stacks of books and papers and glassware, plants and foreign tools strewn around empty labs. "This is why I love earth scientists," Jenna said when we stuck our heads into one room of particularly stunning disarray. "This is what my room looks like. This is their work!"



Jenna told me about how when she was younger, she'd wanted to be a scientist. "I had an unhealthy obsession with dinosaurs," she said, and admitted that she'd gone beyond simply researching them, and had, at the age of eight, written away to college professors for more information. Some wrote back, and some didn't, but Jenna had decided to become a paleontologist..."until I realized dinosaurs were all dead, and maybe not that interesting after all." Still, as a grown-up self-professed English nerd studying economics, the hidden hallways of Morrill III hold a certain nostalgia, comfort, and excitement, with its displays describing the results of complex experiments and research in far-off places. I realized that this building was the sort of place I was expecting to learn in when I started college. Bartlett, where I've spent the past four years doing my own, less concrete learning paled in comparison to Morrill, where the academic atmosphere was palpable and electric with the possibility of new discovery.

A Trip to French Meadow

When I met Sarah in the journalism office, she was reading an issue of Saveur magazine. So in realizing that she was a fellow foodie, I knew exactly where I should take a girl who had never been to the Campus Center before.

In the midst of all the crappy food offered at the Bluewall and other locations in the Campus Center, it's nice to finally have a healthier and really delicious option. This is why I decided to take Sarah to the new French Meadow Bakery stand.

I discovered this new line of sandwiches and salads one day early last year when I was desperate for nourishment. I caved and went into Bluewall, which I am typically not a fan of. I noticed that there was a new station with panini sandwiches. "Chicken and goat cheese," one sign read. Let's just say I'm obsessed with goat cheese, so I was immediately sold. And to my pleasant surprise, it was actually pretty good; a nice warm ciabatta roll spread with creamy goat cheese and filled with a grilled chicken breast, roasted red peppers and spinach. It was a win in my book, not the best I've ever had, but still good, especially for where it came from.

Then, in the later months, I noticed new sandwiches and salads in the refrigerated section, with French Meadow Bakery labels on them. "Hmm, this could be good," I thought. There were sprouted wraps with roasted veggies and chicken, a white cheddar and cranberry sandwich on multigrain bread, and even a turkey club on a fresh, buttery croissant. Each sandwich came with a small salad of organic mixed field greens and a side of white balsamic vinaigrette. The best part: they were all only between $5 and $7. There were also salads like the cranberry, walnut and gorgonzola salad, the grilled salmon salad, and the spa salad. Also all delicious.

From that point on I decided this was going to be my new emergency lunch option, and I applauded Bluewall for remembering that there are people out there who do not enjoy having fried food, pizza, or burritos the size of a small child every day for lunch.

So imagine my excitement when I saw the "coming soon" sign in the main area of the campus center that said "FRENCH MEADOW BAKERY." Since then it's opened, and the word has obviously gotten out that the food is good, because during peak hours the place is packed, and people still choose to wait in the line. I know I do...
-Alex

Not every culinary experience at UMass needs to happen in a crowded dining hall that reeks of prepackaged, deep fried chicken patties, pizza that has become stale under orange heating lamps, and sweet, syrupy soft drinks squirting endlessly into the plastic cups of college students. No, the Campus Center offers a quicker, smaller, albeit healthier option for the college student on the go. French Meadow Bakery and Cafe located right in the middle of the campus center offers a wide varieties of gourmet salads, sandwiches, bagels, and desserts that are freshly made and organic. Alex showed me this not so hidden treasure earlier today, right after lunch time. I followed her down the winding, dimly lit tunnel that runs between the Student Union and the Campus Center. We passed students hurrying along to classes, the brightly lit windows of the barber shop, and even surprisingly, a student dressed in a gorilla suit, until we turned the corner into the main hall of the Campus Center. Sitting against the wall in the middle of the hall sat the brightly colored French Meadow Cafe stand. Its display case filled with hemp brownies, cheesecake squares, bagels, muffins, and large salads beckoned to me as Alex told me about the stand. Alex explained that French Meadow is a fairly new business on campus. It was, she said, a nicer, healthier alternative to the food offered at other on campus food stops like the Bluewall. The food looked fresh and tasty. The drinks menu had a wide variety of caffeinated and juice options. And the people working seemed pretty happy to be there. Indeed the short trip to the Campus Center seems well worth it. Alex’s only complaint, it’s too popular! -Sarah C.

Snack schedule

Gummy bears by Demi
THURS, FEB 4 -- Rick

TUES, FEB 9 -- Alex

THURS, FEB 11 -- Stephanie B.

TUES, FEB 16 --NO CLASS

THURS, FEB 18 -- Sarah J.

TUES, FEB 23 -- Katie C.

THURS, FEB 25 -- Stephanie G.

TUES, MAR 2 -- Sarah C.

THURS, MAR 4 Lindsey D.

TUES, MAR 9 -- Mary

THURS, MAR 11 -- Joy

Some Sicilian appetizers, courtesy Adriana's Italian Gourmet Cookies

Antipasti Artichoke Caponata Artichokes Stuffed with Pancetta and Parsley Baked Endive with Pancetta and Parmigiano Cheese Beetroot with Bechamel Sauce Breaded Mozzarella Bresaola Antipasto Bruschette with Arugula, Smoked Mozzarella, and Tomatoes Bruschetta with Goat Cheese, Garlic and Tomatoes Cantaloupe and Prosciutto with Basil Oil Caponata with Fennel, Olives and Raisins Celery in Bechamel Sauce Cheese and Brandy Tartines Chicken Liver and Prosciutto Crostini Chicken Liver Crostini Curried Chicken Puffs Eggplant Rolatini Fresh Homemade Ricotta Fresh Ricotta and Fava Bean Bruschetta Fried Mozzarella with Anchovies, Capers, and Garlic Sauce Mortadella Bundles Olive Pate' Pancetta Crostini Pesce Spada nel Pane Profumato alle Erbe Portobello Mushroom and Dried Tomato Bruschetta Prosciutto with Chicken Livers and Mushroom Sauce Prosciutto Wrapped Asparagus with Mint Dressing Roasted Eggplant and Red Pepper Topping Sausage and Chicken Stuffed Potatoes Shrimp Stuffed Portobello Mushrooms Shrimps with Cannellini Beans Toscana Slow-Roasted Tomato Crostini Spicy Marinated Mozzarella with Oregano and Capers Spicy Shrimp and Crab Bruschetta Spinach, Prosciutto and Red Bell Pepper Crostini Stuffed Peppers Toasted Mozzarella Tomato and Cheese Bruschetta Tuna and Roasted Pepper Crostini

A Tour of Hampshire

(c. UMass Dining)

Jordan greets me promptly at 6:30. I've trekked down to Southwest from Orchard Hill, and the food better be worth it. I have experienced all of the dining commons at UMass except for Hampshire. We head up a flight of stairs and swipe in. Tonight is a celebration of Black History Month, and the entrees include southern fried chicken, fried catfish filets, peanut soup, and sweet potato pie. A local high school group plays jazz music, which permeates the DC. This is a rarity, Jordan tells me; it is usually Berkshire that has themed events.

As the piece de resistance of UMass dining, Berkshire is bright, shiny, and modern. Hampshire, by comparison, is dark and dingy. So why, with Berkshire just a few steps away, would anyone ever chose to dine at Hampshire?

"Hampshire is definitely the most underrated DC," says Jordan as we walk past the entrees, stir-fry station, and hot dog and hamburger station in the first room. "I usually come here twice a week for lunch. It's much less crowded during peak hours than Berkshire. It's more relaxed."

Hampshire can best be described as a maze. One wrong step, and you're in the kitchens. Seating areas are scattered, and I wonder how I will ever find my way back to our table. "The set up and design are annoying if you're not used to it," Jordan admits.

We pass salad bars, a soup station, a chicken caesar salad bar, a breakfast table, fruits, and desserts on our way to the next room, which offers pizza, pasta, and a deli station. The deli station is Jordan's favorite aspect of Hampshire dining; it offers more options than the deli at Berkshire, and at lunch it has paninis, burritos, and fries. "It's the most popular station for lunch, and the set up is really convenient," says Jordan.

There are definitely trade-offs between Berkshire and Hampshire. Berkshire has late-night, but it doesn't open until 11 am. So if you want breakfast in Southwest, Hampshire is the place to go. It also has breakfast on the run, which is the breakfast version of the popular grab n' go.

Overall, "the dining halls over here are better," Jordan says. Having lived in Central for her first two years at UMass, she has spent her share of time at Franklin and Worcester, the DCs for the Central, Orchard Hill, Northeast, and Sylvan residential areas. The food choices at Hampshire and Berkshire are comparable, and the best part is, as Jordan notes, there's no hill to walk up when you're done!

What's due TUESDAY, FEB. 2

DUE TUESDAY:

1) The "color" photos posted on your personal Picasa page and

2) Read the two first stories (if you have the best travel writing book) and write a very short summary of them, saying what the angle is in each one. Quote a passage you like from both and say why. Bring in a hard copy of this -- it doesn't have to be longer than four short paragraphs -- to turn in.

FOR THURSDAY:

WRITERS: On Thursday, the writers' blog assignment is due in which you work in pairs, with one person reporting on the other person's tour of a favorite place.

ALL: Have Sicily presentations ready to go!